Friendly Fire
by PsychUOut
Summary: Newkirk is shot... by Schultz. It is an accident of course, but how will everyone's favorite German guard react. My first Hogan's Heroes story.
1. Accidents Happen Accidentally

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights Hogan's Heroes or any of its characters.

This is my first trip into the Hogan's Heroes fandom. Hello. This story was originally supposed to be a short one shot but somehow turned into a multi-chapter.

Chapter 1:

Accidents Happen Accidentally

If there was one thing Hogan and his heroes could always count on, it was Sergeant Schultz. Schultz was the enemy, a German officer, but he was almost one of them. The man was easy to trick but even more than that it was easy to trip his soft side. He was a teddy bear of a man that in most times cared for Hogan and his men more than his fellow officers. The heroes were lucky to have gotten such a man as their guard. He would never hurt them… not on purpose.

Corporal Newkirk, resident pickpocket, spotted the loveable guard crossing the compound his rifle on his shoulder. "Oye! Schultzy!"

The German Sergeant raised an eyebrow but marched over in his direction. "What is it?" Sergeant Carter stifled a smile from his spot next to Newkirk.

"Just wanted to say 'ello Schultzy. You're looking good today." Newkirk patted a hand on his stomach. "Are you losing weight?"

Schultz smiled and relaxed, dropping his gun to his side. "Actually, I have been trying to watch what I eat. Thank you for noticing Newkirk."

"Of course." The Englishman smiled. "What are friends for?"

"We are… friends?" Schultz questioned.

"Course we are mate. Isn't that right Carter?"

The American nodded. "Best friends Schultz." The German smiled. "And do you know what best friends do for each other?"

Schultz leaned in closer. "What?"

"They tell each other secrets."

"Like where Colonel Klink is having you take that load of ammo this afternoon." Newkirk added, pointing at the truck parked by the gates.

The robust Sergeant stumbled back. "Oh no-no-no!" He cried. "You are only trying to get information out of me. And I will not have it! Absolutely not!"

"Oh come on Schultzy." Newkirk said, throwing his arm around the man's shoulder. "We're friends, mates. We're just worried about you. We want to make sure you're not going anywhere dangerous."

Schultz relaxed again. "Really? You're worried about me?"

"Yeah." Carter nodded. "We don't want you getting hurt."

"That is so nice." He straightened suddenly and slapped his rifle back on his shoulder. "But I cannot tell you. Now back to work, the both of you."

The two prisoners sighed and went back to cleaning the barrack windows as they had been ordered. Schultz marched away and the window they were working on opened. "Get anything out of him?" Hogan questioned, leaning out the window.

"He wouldn't tell us." Carter said with a pout.

Hogan shook his head. "It's like he doesn't trust us or something."

"Maybe with good reason." Newkirk smirked and pulled a slip of paper out of his sleeve, handing it to his commanding officer. "Schultz's orders. Pinched it off him in case he didn't spill."

Hogan smiled. "Good job Newkirk, I'll give this to Kinch and have him radio the information to London." He started to close the window but stopped. "Oh, and you missed a spot." He added with a smirk before slamming it shut.

Newkirk rolled his eyes as Carter buffed out the smudge. "Everyone's a critic."

"Roll call!" Schultz yelled later that night. "Roll call, everybody out! Out! Out!"

"Out, Out, Out!" Corporal LeBeau mocked as he took his spot next to Newkirk. The little Frenchman wrapped his arms tighter around his body. "You should really come up with something new." It was their job to stall the German while Hogan and Sergeant Kinch sabotaged the ammo truck to make sure it would stop at an intended location, where it would be taken by force and unloaded by fellow underground agents.

"He's right." Newkirk said with a nod. "It's awfully harsh, you could be a little nicer."

"Niiicer?" Schultz whined. "But I am a German Sergeant, I cannot be nice."

"And why not?" Carter asked. "Don't we always do what you tell us to?"

Schultz straightened. "No you do not, you are always giving me trouble."

"Only because we care." Newkirk smirked.

The plump guard rolled his eyes before the lack of prisoners suddenly occurred to him. "Wait just a minute." He lowered his voice and moved closer to Newkirk. "Wheeere is Hogan and Sergeant Kinch?"

Newkirk pretended to give the question some thought. "I'm sorry who?"

"Hogan and Kinchloe!" He roared before checking behind him to make sure Colonel Klink hadn't come out of his office yet. "Where are they?"

Newkirk saw two shadows run behind the barracks, Hogan and Kinch, he had to get Schultz's attention turned so they could fall in line. It wasn't a problem, he had done it a million times before. "Oh! Hogan and Kinch, of course, how stupid of me. I think I saw them off that way." He pointed a finger in the opposite direction and Schultz followed it. "I'll just go get them and you can count to your heart's content."

He stepped forward but Schultz stopped him, placing his rifle in the way. "I don't think so! Just tell me where and I'll go get them."

"Oh, it's really no problem Schultzy, you're a busy man. I'll just go and-" He pushed past Schultz but the man just wouldn't turn around. He backed up with Newkirk's movements and pushed his gun in between them again.

"Stop it!" The German yelled, "You are up to somethiiing!"

"Who? Me? I would never, I just want to help you out. They were just over there." Finally, Newkirk got fed up, he grabbed Schultz by the shoulders and spun him around so his back was facing the barracks.

Newkirk smiled as Hogan and Kinch started to round the side of the barrack, they were just about to slip in undetected when Schultz started to push him back into the line. "No you are not! You are trying to distract me but I am too clever. Now back in line! Back!"

He started to turn but Newkirk grabbed him again. "You are being difficult Schultzy, I just-"

"That is enough Newkirk!" He cried, growing irritated, he shoved his rifle between them and pushed him back to the line.

"Come on mate, I'm telling you-"

"Now I am the guard and you are the prisoner!" He snapped, pointing at Newkirk with the end of the rifle. They both knew it wasn't loaded so neither thought much of it but Newkirk put his hands up and took a few steps back anyway. "Now back to your spot! Back! Back!"

The entire line of prisoners and guards jumped in surprise when the gun went off with a loud bang. Schultz's face fell into silent horror in realization at what had just happened but Newkirk had a few choice words to say. "Blimey!" He yelled after a string of curses. "You coulda' killed me Schultz!" He shouted.

"I am so sorry Newkirk." The German whined. "It was an accident, I would never-"

"What's the big idea Schultz?" Hogan snapped as if he had been standing there the whole time. "Newkirk was just trying to help."

"I knooow." He whined, forgetting completely what it was that Newkirk was helping him with. "It was an accident I- I'm sorry."

"Gee Schultz." Carter chimed in.

LeBeau shook his head. "How could you be so thoughtless Schultz?"

Newkirk grinned, just happy their mission had been accomplished. But as the whole shock of the situation started to wear off, the Englishman started to notice a pinch of pain rising up from his abdomen. Schultz continued to whine his apologies as the others berated him but it was all drowned out when Newkirk stated to have trouble taking in air.

"What was the meaning of that gunfire?" Klink roared as he came out of his office in a hurry. "Who fired?"

Schultz snapped to attention. "It was me Herr Kommandant. It was just an accident."

"Accident!" Klink roared. "An accident! How could you fire your weapon on accident? Dummkopf!"

Newkirk pulled at his overcoat, loosening it and reaching a hand inside. "Sir?" He whispered in Hogan's direction. "Colonel Hogan…"

Hogan pulled his attention away from the scene before them, to which he was clearly amused. "What is it Newkirk? You did a good job distracting."

"Thank you sir but… I don't feel so well." His hand brushed over his side and he felt his uniform growing warm and wet. "Sir… I think I…"

"Newkirk?" His legs seemed to fall out from under him but luckily Hogan moved quickly to catch him.

The Englishman pulled his hand out from his coat, fingers covered in blood. He heard LeBeau let out a squeak and turn away. Hogan moved both of them to the ground, propping Newkirk up against his chest. He tore at his overcoat and pushed it away, revealing the gunshot wound soaking his blue uniform in red. "Klink!" Hogan cried. "Klink, Newkirk's been shot!"

The angry Colonel turned from berating his Sergeant. "What do you mean-" He cut himself off with a strange guttural noise when his eyes landed on Newkirk. "What? B-but how?"

"I-I-I…" Schultz stuttered. "I shot him?" He looked blankly at his weapon. "But… but I never keep it loaded. I must have… I must have grabbed the wrong gun from somewhere." The befuddled German's face turned to a mask of instant regret and remorse. "I am so sorry Newkirk, I didn't mean… I…"

"Don't worry about that now Schultz!" Hogan snapped. "Go call for an ambulance." When the Sergeant didn't move he grew angry. "Now Schultz! Now!"

Schultz snapped into action and took off across the compound in a hurried putter. "Klink, get something to soak up the blood." Hogan ordered, watching his Corporal's face grow paler by the second.

Klink shook his fist. "Hogan you cannot tell me what to do, I am the Commander of this-"

"Now Klink!" Hogan snapped again.

The Colonel startled and quickly ordered his guards to find bandages and towels. "Colonel, what can we do?" Carter asked in a small and helpless voice.

"Carter, take Newkirk and press down on his wound, he's bleeding to fast, we have to slow it." The Colonel passed him off to the young American and he did as he was told. They all flinched when Newkirk let out a cry of pain at the pressure. Carter let off a bit, afraid he was hurting his friend. "No Carter! Keep pressing down hard or it won't slow the bleeding."

"Okay Colonel." Carter said weakly. "Sorry buddy." He said before pushing his hand into Newkirk's side and making him cry out again.

Hogan nodded in approval before turning to his radioman. "Kinch, go get Klink's car and bring it around, the ambulance isn't going to get here fast enough." The American nodded and took off into the dark. "LeBeau." Hogan snapped.

"Yes Colonel." The Frenchman showed he was paying attention but wouldn't look in their direction. "What can I do?"

"Just… don't pass out."

LeBeau's body deflated. He wanted to help and hated feeling useless. "Yes sir." His eyes darted very briefly toward Newkirk. "Is… he okay?"

Newkirk would have laughed if it didn't hurt so badly. "I'm alright little mate." He managed to cough out.

Schultz came wobbling back. "The ambulance is on its way." He panted, out of breath.

"Forget the ambulance, it'll take too long." Hogan growled.

"But what are we going to do?" He whined. "Newkirk, he is bleeding."

"Of course he's bleeding! You shot him Schultz!" The German guard seemed to shrink down under the accusation. His whole being slouched and vanished.

Klink returned with a guard carrying a mountain of towels. "Here we are Hogan, just as you asked for."

"Good." He grabbed a handful and knelt next to Newkirk. He lay them on ground and pulled out a knife to cut through the Englishman's clothes.

Klink gasped. "You are not supposed to have that weapon Hooogan!" He cried.

"Can it Klink!" He pushed back Newkirk's jacket and cut away his sweater and undershirt. "Now ease up just a little Carter, so I can get the towel in. Carter did as he was told and they could finally see the extent of the wound. The bullet had entered just above Newkirk's hipbone on his right side. The hole was bubbling with blood so he didn't have time to address it any further, he layered the towels over it and moved Carter's hands back to push down. Newkirk took in a sharp breath of air and let it out in a whimper. Carter apologized again.

Kinch arrived, driving the German Commander's car. Klink gasped in horror. "What is that prisoner doing?"

"The ambulance will take too long Klink." Hogan explained, barely paying the Colonel any mind. "He needs to get to the hospital now." Kinch stepped out and waited for further instruction.

"But how did he get my car started?" Klink stuttered. "I have the only key." Hogan only answered that with a roll of his eyes. "No!" The German snapped. "He can wait for the ambulance."

A rash of anger none of the prisoners or guards had ever seen before suddenly fell over the American Colonel and unleashed itself. "This man was shot by one of your own guards when he was doing nothing wrong!" Hogan roared, rushing towards Klink with reckless abandon. He shoved a finger in his face, wet and dripping with blood. "He will be taking your car to the hospital or so help me Klink I will make sure you pay for whatever happens to him until my last fighting breath!"

The Kommandant stood in a state of shock, staring at the blood on Hogan's hands. "A-alright, fine. But I'm not letting you go alone."

Schultz suddenly reappeared from his sulking and snapped to attention. "I will take them Colonel!"

Klink gave a single nod. "You are not to let them out of your sight, do you understand?"

"Yes Herr Kommandant. Of course, Herr Kommandant."

"Good now that that's settled." Hogan grumbled. "Help me get him in the car. Gently." Kinch moved to Newkirk's side and the big American moved his arms under his back and legs. "Carter, keep pressure on the wound." Hogan ordered. "LeBeau, get the door open. Schultz, get that car started."

"Yes sir." They all cried, even the German guard.

Kinch lifted Newkirk off the ground as carefully as he could but still the Englishman whimpered in pain. Carter did as he was told and kept his hands on Newkirk's stomach as they moved him to the car. LeBeau held the door open with one hand and kept his eyes covered with the other. The car roared to life. Hogan climbed in first and took Newkirk into his lap when Kinch handed him in. Carter climbed in last, still keeping a tight hold. He reached out for more towels to replace the ones that had soaked through. Kinch handed them over and leaned his head in, "LeBeau and I will come later, I'm sure we can talk ol' Klink into it." His eyes fell on Newkirk. "Get better buddy." He smiled and shut the door.

"Get going Schultz." Hogan ordered harshly. The car sped forward on command, jostling all the passengers. Newkirk let out a gasp of pain. "Easy Schultz!"

"S-sorry Colonel. I did not mean-"

"Just drive!"

"Y-yes sir. Sorry."

The ride was a little bumpier than Newkirk would have wanted. Every dip in the road jostled the car and moved either himself or Carter's hands. Carter did his best to keep his grip steady but it was easier said than done. Each time a white hot pain like a fire poker being stabbed through his gut radiated up from his side and spread out through his entire body. It was almost too much to bare. But Schultz did manage to make good time. They arrived at the hospital in half the time it should have taken.

The portly German guard hopped out of the car and fetched a couple of nurses and a stretcher, he told them the situation and they were ready as soon as they got back to the car. Carter and Hogan lifted Newkirk out and onto the stretcher and let the nurses take over. A doctor joined them and they rolled him away, leaving his friends behind.

To Be Continued


	2. Flowers To Say I'm Sorry

Thank you to everyone for the lovely reviews! And especially to those who offered advice, it is always welcome in my book. I have done my best to recheck my grammar while I try to find myself a beta, as recommended. You are a wonderful bunch of people. Please enjoy Chapter 2.

Chapter 2:

Flowers to Say I'm Sorry

Hogan pushed his hands under the running water, it turned deep red as it mixed with blood and washed away down the drain. Carter stood at the sink next to him, doing the same. He stared blankly at his hands, barely registering what he was doing. Hogan scrubbed at his palm and flashed his youngest team member a quick smile. "He's going to be okay Carter." He said soothingly. "Newkirk is too stubborn to let a mere bullet slow him down."

Carter let out a hallow laugh, still staring at his hands. "Yes, I know sir. It's just… a lot of blood." He turned off the knob and shook out the water. "But you're right. I'm sure he's already trying to get dates with the nurses."

Hogan smiled at the thought. The smile vanished when Schultz stuck his head through the door. "Uh… excuse me Colonel, is everything okay? Do you need anything?"

Hogan dried his hands and pushed past the German. "No Schultz, I think you've done enough." He wasn't sure if his anger was misplaced or not. They all knew that Schultz would never hurt any of them, he never had before and likely never would again. But right now he just wanted to be angry, and Schultz was the largest target.

Their guard followed them to the waiting room and sat with his head hung low. "I am sorry." He said quietly, "I would never…" He faded off, staring at the floor.

Carter glanced at Hogan who was busy looking anywhere but at Schultz. The young American sighed, he didn't have the heart to be angry like his commander. "We know Schultz." He said gently. "But I think maybe it's best if you don't talk right now."

"Right." He mumbled.

They sat in silence as the hours passed by. Carter fell asleep, resting his head against his Colonel's shoulder. Hogan checked his watch, it was almost three in the morning. Newkirk had been in surgery since just after midnight. Schultz was starting nod off but Hogan was wide awake when the doctor finally came out. He was a middle aged man, with salt and peppered hair and tired eyes. "I am Doctor Kemmler. You are here for the Englander prisoner?"

"Newkirk." Hogan corrected sharply as he gently shook Carter awake.

"Yes, as I said, the prisoner."

Carter jumped out of his chair before Hogan could correct the doctor again. "Is he okay doc?" He squeaked.

Schultz stood as well, anticipation and worry clear on his face. "He is okay." The doctor answered quickly since Carter was bouncing around him like an eager puppy. They all let out a breath of relief. Hogan pulled Carter back so the doctor could continue. "The bullet was removed safely with minimal damage. He lost a good deal of blood but with some rest he will recover just fine."

Hogan opened his mouth for a question but again, Carter beat him to it. "Can we see him? Please doc. Please."

The doctor looked about to deny the request but the young American's puppy dog pout seemed to break him. "Follow me." He said, leading the way back to the recovery rooms. "He is still under anesthesia however and most likely will not respond." He stood at the door of room 106 and ushered them in.

Newkirk was fast asleep, flat on the hospital bed for comfort. His face was pale but he seemed to be resting peacefully. "Can we wake him?" Hogan asked.

"You can try." The doctor said as he checked over the chart.

Hogan nodded and leaned closer, laying a hand gently on the Englishman's shoulder. "Newkirk. Hey Newkirk, it's me… Hogan." There was no response, just the gentle beeping of his monitor. It was unnerving to see the outspoken man so quiet and still.

Carter moved to the opposite side of the bed and wrapped his hand gently around Newkirk's. "Come on buddy, wake up. We want to see you." There was still no response.

Schultz stood at the door, too afraid to come in. They eventually gave up and filed out of the room with heavy hearts. The doctor watched them with pity. Prisoners or not, he seemed to see the humanity in them. "He is just sleepy, he has been through a lot. Come back tomorrow and I'm sure you will be able to talk to him."

Hogan nodded before his eyes landed on the room's other occupant. A German uniform lay next to the man's bed as he slept. He was a soldier. A German soldier and an Allied prisoner in the same room… a recipe for disaster. "Hey doc, can we get another room?"

The doctor followed his gaze. "I am sorry but the hospital if very busy, the rooms are full, there is nothing I can do."

"But doc…" Carter whined.

The doctor raised a hand. "I am only a doctor, it is beyond my control." He watched their faces fall sullen and sighed. "I will… see what I can do."

Carter smiled. "Thanks doc, we really appreciate it."

"Yah, Yah." He said as he walked off. "But I make no promises."

A nurse came up and tapped Schultz on the shoulder. "Sir, a call for you." She said, motioning to the phone at the front counter.

"Ah, thank you." He trotted over to the phone and picked it up. "Sergeant Schultz… yes Herr Kommandant." Hogan rolled his eyes. "Yes I understand… yes he is okay but… yes… yes. Yes we will leave right away. Yes… Yes, I-" Schultz pulled the phone away from his ear, apparently he'd been hung up on. He trudged back to them. "We have to go right away. Colonel Klink is not happy we've been gone so long."

Hogan crossed his arms, his eyes flashing back to Newkirk looking so helpless in the bed. "Yes, we will go." He said.

Carter's eyes widened. "But Colonel, we can't just leave-"

He held up a hand, silencing the young Sergeant. "We will leave." He said in clarification. "But Schultz is going to stay."

"I am?"

"Yes." Hogan said firmly. "You are going to stay and guard Newkirk as if your very existence depended on it."

The German looked puzzled. "But why? I don't think he is going to run away. He can't even move."

Hogan moved closer, a threatening air surrounding him. "You're not going to guard him to keep him in, you're going to guard him to keep him safe. He is an Allied prisoner in a German hospital full of soldiers. If anything happens to him, it will be your fault Schultz."

"Me?" He asked innocently.

"You." Hogan growled. "You are the one who put him here. He is fully your responsibility from this moment forward. You do _not_ let him out of your sight, not for one minute. Understand?" Schultz nodded his head quickly, fear of the angry Colonel clouding his face. "Good." He stepped back but not before taking the keys from Schultz's hand. "Carter and I will drive back to keep Klink happy."

"B-bu-but, how do I know you won't just drive away?" He stuttered. "How do I know you will go back to camp?"

"You don't." Hogan growled. "Now get in there and watch him."

Schultz snapped to attention and saluted before scurrying back into Newkirk's room. Carter followed Hogan out to the car and they climbed in. "Colonel?" Carter asked meekly. "Don't you think you're being a little hard on Schultz? I mean, it was an accident."

Hogan hit the gas and the car sped forward into the dark. "Maybe… but at least now we know Newkirk will be safe."

"Yeah that's true."

"Besides, you saw Newkirk lying there. It wouldn't hurt Schultz to feel a little bad."

"Yeah, that's true too." They were quiet for a moment before Carter spoke again. "I'm glad Newkirk is okay."

A small but genuine smile found its way over Hogan's tired face. "Yeah… me too."

* * *

It took a good deal of time to placate the furious Colonel Klink when they arrived back in his car without a guard. But Hogan needed him happy if he hoped to convince him to let them visit Newkirk any time soon. But all it really took was a reminder that one of his prisoners had been shot without due cause, on his watch. And after a few threats of the Geneva Convention, the Commandant grew instantly more pliable. He dismissed Hogan with a promise of a visit tomorrow.

Kinch and LeBeau were still awake when Carter and Hogan walked through the door of the barrack. LeBeau hailed them with a barrage of questions, some in English and some in quick French, but Hogan calmed him down instantly with a simple phrase. "He's going to be just fine."

"Merci." He said with a heavy sigh, knowing his friend was okay was all he needed. But the little Frenchman suddenly backed up in a hurry when he noticed splotches of blood on Carter and Hogan's shirts. "Will you please change?" He begged, covering his eyes.

Hogan chuckled and they both changed into fresh uniforms, grateful to be out of the clothes still marked with their friend's blood. Soon they were all gathered around the table, sipping coffee in the early morning hours. Carter quickly relayed the doctor's words.

"Poor Newkirk." LeBeau poured them some more coffee. "When can he come back? Is it safe there at the hospital?"

The Colonel stared into his coffee cup. "No, it's not." Their heads snapped up in confusion.

"What do you mean it's not safe?" The Frenchmen roared in anger. "It's a hospital."

"It's a German hospital." Hogan grumbled. "And he's an Allied prisoner."

Carter nodded. "Yeah and on top of that he's sharing a room with a German soldier."

"What?" Kinch gasped. "You should have demanded another room."

"Don't you think I tried?" Hogan snapped. He sighed and softened his tone. "The hospital is full. But the doctor said he would try."

Carter smiled, trying to lighten the mode. "But at least he's got some protection. Schultz is there with him."

LeBeau rolled his eyes. "Oh, I feel so much better now. I say we break him out and take him to a safer hospital."

Carter and Kinch nodded their heads in agreement. "No." Hogan said, wiping the idea away. "Moving him would only make things worse. I trust that Schultz will keep him safe."

"You sure about that Colonel?" Kinch asked with a wince. "He was the one that shot him in the first place."

"Which is exactly why I think he'll do everything he can to keep him safe." Hogan hesitated. "Or he'll have me to deal with."

* * *

Newkirk's head swam. Drugs… it was definitely drugs. He knew the effects of painkillers when he felt it. Everything was all fuzzy and numb, even his mind. He forced himself through the mess of fog and found the command to open his eyes.

He stared at the dull white color of a hospital ceiling. So they made it to the hospital after all? He didn't remember actually arriving. Did he pass out before they reached the hospital? He couldn't remember. He just remembered seeing Carter and Hogan's worried faces floating above him. It was nice to have friends who worried. The thought made him smile… at least he thought it did, he wasn't sure if his face actually responded.

An odd hissing sound hit his ear. It came and then stopped, and then again. He turned his head toward the noise. It was coming from a person. The one in the bed next to him. "Psssst!" the kid hissed again. "You." He snapped. Newkirk blinked slowly in response. "You're the prisoner?" The kid questioned in a German accent. His leg was up in a sling and had a thick cast around it. He also had a bandaged shoulder and arm. "Well are ya?"

"Newkirk." He answered lazily. "Nice to meet ya mate."

The kid's face pinched into a scowl. "An Englander? Filthy lot you are." Newkirk's muddled brain barely registered the insult. "Whoever shot you," The kid continued. "They should have done the world a favor and finished the job."

Again, the insult flew over his muddled brain. But he didn't have time to process it before Schultz suddenly flew into the room on curiously light feet. "No, no, no." He chanted. "No talking to the prisoner." He ordered, before placing up a divider between their beds.

"Schullzzzy!" Newkirk slurred as the guard took a chair next to his bed. "How are ya mate? Iss good to see you."

Schultz became the picture of confusion. "You mean you are not angry with me?" He questioned quietly.

It was Newkirk's turn to be confused. "Angry? About what?"

The German fidgeted. "Uh… nothing, I'm sure you will remember soon enough."

The Englishman laughed and suddenly the pain returned. He winced when it shot up from his side and hit him hard. "No, no." Schultz said in a panic. "Do not laugh, it will aggravate your wound."

He took in shallow breaths of air until the pain subsided. "You shot me." He said weakly.

"See." Schultz shrunk in his chair. "I knew you would remember." They went quiet a moment, neither sure of what to say. "But look!" Schultz shouted taking Newkirk by surprise. "I brought you the most beautiful bouquet of flowers I could find."

He sat a massive vase of flowers next to his bed. The array of colors was blinding. Newkirk smiled when he noticed the look of eagerness on Schultz's face, like a child looking for approval. He was trying to apologize. "Izz nize." He said through a yawn, his eyes drooping.

Schultz smiled. "Get some sleep Newkirk, your friends will be coming to visit today. You need your strength."

"And you Schulzzy?" He asked. His eyes slid closed, he hadn't the strength to hold them open anymore.

"I will be here." Schultz answered behind the darkness of his eyelids. "I will keep you safe."

* * *

The next time Newkirk woke it was to the sound of several voices within the room. His head still felt heavy but the fog seemed to be lifting. "But I want to wake him." A voice said in a thick French accent. LeBeau.

"Take it easy, he's been through the wringer and back, he's probably tired." A deep American voice said. Kinch, of course.

"Yeah, he got shot you know." The innocence in that voice could only be Carter.

"Oh really, I didn't notice." LeBeau snapped sarcastically.

"Well… you had your eyes closed the whole time, you might not have noticed."

Newkirk couldn't help but laugh at Carter's comment. It was a bad idea though, the movement sent the sharp pain through his stomach and he let out a whine of discomfort. "Easy Newkirk." He felt Hogan's warm hand on his shoulder. "You should know better than to laugh in your condition."

He finally opened his eyes and saw the Colonel smiling over him. "Sorry sir, I'll remember that next time." He replied with a smirk.

"Hey there lazy bum." LeBeau greeted excitedly. "What are you doing laying around for? We've got work to do."

Newkirk tried to push himself up so he could see his friends better. Carter moved quickly and stuffed several pillows under his back to help. His side throbbed angrily but he did his best to ignore it. "Sorry mate, but you guys will just 'ave to get by without me for a spell. Now I know it'll be difficult, nearly impossible even, but you'll manage."

"Yeah well, we'll just have to find someone else to throw out sarcastic comments from time to time." Kinch smirked. "Then it'll be like you never left."

They all laughed but were interrupted when Colonel Klink came barreling into the room. "I think that's been long enough." He snapped.

"Oh come on." LeBeau whined. "We've only been here for ten minutes."

Newkirk placed on a smile. "Colonel Klink ol' buddy, you came to visit me too. Isn't that sweet."

"I did not come to visit you." He grumbled. "I just didn't dare let these four out of my sight. But I think we've wasted enough time here."

"Colonel."

"Come on."

"We can't go yet."

The whines fell on deaf ears so Newkirk threw everything he had at the stern Kommandant. He suddenly fell back and pressed a hand to his side, groaning in intense pain. "oooooh, it hurts so bad. If only I hadn't been shot by one of your guards." The German Colonel straightened. "Ah! It hurts! Please Kommandant, I just need my friends by my side in my hour of need. Oh no, the pain!"

"Fine! Fine. You have ten more minutes." Klink huffed and stormed back out.

"Newkirk!" Carter gasped, "Newkirk it'll be okay just let me go get the doctor." He started to run out the door but Kinch grabbed his jacket.

"Oh Carter." Newkirk said with a roll of his eyes. "I was just playing it up to get ol' Klink to let you stay."

"Oh… I knew that."

"So… does it hurt at all?" LeBeau asked, eyeing his side warily.

"Not too bad, smarts a little to be sure, but I'll make it."

The Frenchmen gave a relieved smile. "Good. You had us worried."

"Did I?" There were nods all around the room and Newkirk was honestly touched. Yes, it was good to have friends who cared. His face burned a little in a slight blush but he was saved from embarrassment when Schultz suddenly appeared in the room.

"Everything is okay in here?" He questioned gently. "Does anyone need anything?"

"We're fine Schultz." Hogan barked. Schultz flinched and started to back away. "Hold on Schultz, come in here." The Colonel ordered.

The guard smiled and bounced into the room. "Yes, what can I do?"

Hogan crossed his arms and his frown deepened. "What is this?" He asked, nodding towards the giant bouquet of flowers.

Schultz swallowed nervously. "Flowers, to… brighten up the room."

"And how did you get flowers if you didn't leave Newkirk's side like you promised?"

The whole room seemed to shrink under the accusation. Schultz's gaze shifted as he searched for help, but all eyes fell to the floor. No one dared to even breathe. Except Hogan, who was waiting expectantly for an answer. "It was… only for a moment. I thought Newkirk would like to wake up next to such a beautiful-"

"I told you not to leave his side." Hogan interrupted. "Anything could have happened to him while you were gone."

"I am sorry Colonel Hogan. I just-"

"Go wait outside."

"Ok..." Schultz left the room looking like a puppy that had just been kicked and Newkirk's heart went out to the poor guy, even if he had shot him.

"Colonel, you don't have to be so hard on the guy. It was an accident."

"That's what I said." Carter piped up.

Hogan sighed. "I know, but I need him on his toes. Has anyone said anything threatening to you?"

His mind drifted back to a hazy memory of his roommate's words. Newkirk stared at his hands and nodded. "But it's not anything I 'avn't heard from the krauts before sir, I can take it."

"You could if you weren't hurt. But lying here in bed… well, you're not exactly in a position to defend yourself." No one could argue with that. "And Klink wouldn't dare let any of us stay. So Schultz is your only option. I'm just trying to keep you safe, that's my job. And if that means hurting Schultz's feelings a little then so be it. He's stays by your side, got it?"

The Englishman nodded. "Yes sir."

As if to prove the Colonel's point, Newkirk's roommate returned, pushed in a wheelchair by another soldier. Their faces were already taught with anger before they even laid eyes on the group of prisoners. "Prisoners?" The soldier questioned his injured friend.

"Yah." He nodded.

He helped his friend into bed. "Why do you have to share your room with this Allied trash?"

"Trash?" LeBeau snapped, lunging toward the other side of the room. Kinch reigned him in, wrapping an arm around the smaller man and moving him to the other side of the room.

"Yah, I said trash." The young German snapped in return. "That man should be out in the dumpster instead of taking a German bed."

LeBeau fumed with fury. "Why don't you come over here and we'll see who's trash!" He roared.

"I would gladly!"

"Hold it!" Kinch stepped between them, holding his arms out as a barrier. "Now, we don't want any trouble, we're here to visit our friend, same as you."

The soldier straightened his uniform and glared daggers through LeBeau. Kinch stood tall over him, he was hardly a match against the four men. "Fine, little French scum isn't even worth my time."

LeBeau opened his mouth in anger again but Hogan slapped a hand over it. "That's enough." He growled. "Do you want to make things worse for Newkirk?"

The Frenchman calmed and Hogan lowered his hand. "Sorry Newkirk." He said quietly.

He smiled. "It's okay LeBeau." The Englishman leaned closer, wincing a little. "Besides, we both know you could have easily taken that guy."

LeBeau grinned. "You better believe it, he wouldn't stand a chance."

The doctor came in and smiled at the group. "Ah, Mr. Newkirk." Hogan smiled at the use of his actual name. It would seem the doctor was warming to them. "I see all your friends were able to talk to you after all. It's nice to have so many friends, is it not?"

"Sure is doc." Newkirk said with a grin. "I only wish they were a better looking bunch."

"Hey." Carter squeaked and the doctor laughed.

"And how are you feeling today?"

"A little sore but I'm feeling pretty good."

Hands moved quickly as they examined his patient. "Ah, good, good. You are recovering nicely. Nauseous?"

"Not really."

"Good. Tired?"

"A little." He lifted the blankets and tugged at Newkirk's bandages, making him wince and let out a small cry.

The doctor raised an eyebrow. "You are in more pain than you're telling me." He said accusingly.

Newkirk took in shallow breaths as he tried to fight off the pain of all the poking and prodding. "Maybe, just a little." He panted.

"Newkirk." Hogan scolded. "Don't be so stubborn. You tell him if it hurts."

"Yes mum." Newkirk managed a smirk and the Colonel rolled his eyes.

The doctor chuckled. "Well, I will give you something for the pain and it will help you rest." He left the room and Hogan continued to scold Newkirk for his stubbornness, only stopping when the doctor returned with a needle. He injected something into the IV and smiled. "I will be back shortly to check on you, in the meantime I suggest you all let him rest."

"Yes sir." Hogan nodded and the doctor left just as Klink came flying back in.

"Alright! It's been long enough! All prisoners back to camp this instant!" He roared with a stomp of his foot.

All prisoners ignored him. They instead stood by and waited as Newkirk's eyes started to grow heavier. He let out a long yawn and Carter and LeBeau worked at removing the pillows and getting him comfortable again. "We'll be back to visit buddy." Carter said gently.

"No you will not!" Klink roared.

"Yeah, we'll be here when you wake up again." LeBeau added. "So don't worry."

"You most certainly will not be!"

Kinch smiled. "We'll see you soon Newkirk."

"No! No! No!"

Newkirk chuckled. The pain in his side slowly drifted away and so did his consciousness. Hogan tucked the blankets around him. "Don't be stubborn." He scolded again. "I'm going to make sure of it when I come back."

"For the last time, you are not- oh, I give up."

To Be Continued


	3. Friends and Enemies

**Welcome to the third and final chapter. Sorry it's taken me so long but I hope you enjoy it. I'd like to send out a special thanks and recognition to UnderHisWings for offering to Beta for me, thank you for your input and hard work. It was most appreciated. Thank you to everyone for reading. Until next time.**

Chapter 3:

Friends and Enemies

Newkirk had no doubt of Colonel Hogan's abilities to talk Klink into just about anything. And he was proven correct when his friends were allowed to visit one at a time. Newkirk was grateful for the distraction. He had to put up with a lot of comments from his roommate, his visitors, and even some of the staff, so it was good to see the friendly faces during his stay at the hospital.

After a week, he was able to try standing. The first time putting weight on his injured side went a little worse than he expected. When he slid out of bed his right leg gave out from under him. Luckily LeBeau was visiting and was at his side when he did so. The little Frenchman was nearly crushed when he caught Newkirk's full weight. But LeBeau held firm and helped his friend stand.

"How does it feel?" The doctor asked.

"Feels great." Newkirk answered through clenched teeth. LeBeau rolled his eyes and slightly released his hold. The stubborn Englishman winced and gasped at the pain. "Fine! Fine, hurts, it hurts." He stuttered, grasping at LeBeau for help.

The doctor shook his head and clicked his tongue. "I am sorry, but you can't leave yet."

"But you said I could leave if I could stand." Newkirk whined. "I'm standing, aren't I?"

"Not of your own accord, young man. I am sorry, but I insist on a few more nights. Now back to bed." The doctor helped LeBeau tuck Newkirk back in. "I'm not sure why you're so anxious to get back to a POW camp anyway. This hospital can't be all that bad."

"It's not." Newkirk laughed. "But, you know, I miss my home away from home."

The doctor raised an eyebrow. "You'd have to be there to understand." LeBeau added.

"I'll take your word for it." The doctor smiled and left the room shaking his head.

Schultz waddled into the room shortly after. "LeBeau, the guard is here to take you back to camp."

"Already?" The Frenchman whined. "But I just got here."

"One hour," Schultz said. "That is the amount of time agreed upon by Kommandant Klink."

LeBeau rolled his eyes and sighed. "Alright, Schultz, I get it. I need to get back anyway." He turned to Newkirk and winked. "We're supposed to meet with someone tonight."

Newkirk smiled, but inside it hurt. He hated missing out on the missions and was growing anxious to feel useful again.

LeBeau said his goodbyes and left with the other guard while Schultz took his seat next to Newkirk's bed. The guard was looking tired. He had kept to his promise vigilantly and stayed by the hospital bed at all times. Newkirk was grateful. His roommate had many visitors, with nearly every one of them being soldiers from the German army. It seemed that word had spread of the enemy prisoner taking up the German hospital bed. Each time they visited, they tried to rouse Newkirk into a fight, but each time Schultz intervened, either calming the soldiers down or simply putting Newkirk into a wheel chair and removing him from the room until the soldiers had gone. Schultz had been a blessing wrapped up in a large German bow. If Newkirk had to be shot by any of the Germans, it was a good thing it had been Schultz.

Newkirk adjusted himself comfortably into the pillows and let out a contented sigh. "You've been doing good, Schultzie." He said with a grin.

Schultz jerked awake; he'd almost dozed off before Newkirk had spoken. "Thank you Newkirk. Is there anything you need?"

"No, I'm okay." He reached out and patted the dutiful guard's shoulder. "Get some rest, big guy."

"Well… if you insist." Schultz was out within seconds. Most of his sleeping over the past week had been done right in that chair. The only breaks he'd gotten were when one of the guys was visiting and a guard could stand in the room while Schultz was away cleaning up or grabbing a bite to eat. When Schultz started to snore, Newkirk smiled and drifted off, feeling safe.

* * *

Newkirk woke a few hours later. The curtains were drawn closed, leaving the room dark. He thought it strange; they'd never been closed before.

It took Newkirk a moment to realize what had woken him. Hushed voices moved about the room. "I'm not so sure about this." One of them said. Newkirk recognized it as one of the soldier's young friends.

"Shut up!" This was the voice of the first soldier to visit his injured comrade, the one that had called Newkirk trash; he'd come to learn the burly, loudmouthed soldier's name was Corporal Baumann. "Quit whining, we don't have time for it. That stupid, fat guard will be back any minute."

Newkirk's head lulled to the side, and he noticed the empty chair. He was alone in the room with the Germans.

"He's awake!" The injured soldier snapped.

Newkirk opened his mouth to shout for Schultz, but a hand was slapped over it before he could utter a word. He looked up into the eyes of the angry German soldier. "You be quiet, Ally trash." Baumann hissed.

Newkirk fought against him, trying to push him off, but strong arms held him down on each side, pinning him to the bed. Newkirk counted five men in all, including his injured roommate. He fought back with all the strength he had.

"Stop that now!" Baumann shoved a fist into his wounded side and Newkirk let out a muffled scream; tears forming at the corners of his eyes at the fresh rush of pain. Newkirk stopped his struggles and went limp against the bed. "That's better." Baumann held out his hand. "Give me the drugs."

Newkirk's eyes went wide as a syringe of clear liquid passed over him. One of the others took over clamping a hand down tight over his mouth while Baumann fiddled with Newkirk's IV. "This will make you a little more compliant." He said with a wicked smirk. The trapped Englishman fought hard but couldn't stop the injection.

It only took a minute before Newkirk felt the drug rush through his system. His body relaxed on its own accord, his head swam, and he had trouble focusing… but he didn't lose consciousness. Whatever they were going to do to him, they wanted him awake.

Feeling him relax under their hold, the men released their grasp. One of them nudged Newkirk in the side and laughed. "He's out like a light."

"No." Baumann smirked and grabbed Newkirk's face, turning the prisoner's weak gaze to meet his. "No, he's awake. Aren't you?" Newkirk's unfocused eyes stared into his. A hand was shoved into his side again. His eyes clenched shut in pain, and the soldier got the answer he was looking for. He gave him a shove and turned to bark more orders. "Get the stretcher. Quick, quick! The guard will be back!"

A stretcher was rolled next to his bed, and the men unceremoniously dumped him onto it. "I want to come too." The injured soldier whined from his bed. He was lifted much more gently into a wheel chair, and they all made their way out into the hall. The hospital was strangely quiet; it must have been late. Schultz must have gone for a bite to eat or to use the bathroom thinking no one would bother them so late. Newkirk had never wished so badly to see the German guard's face than in that moment.

He summoned every ounce of energy he could muster and choked out a single word: "Where?"

Baumann looked down at him. "We're freeing up that bed you've been using for someone who actually deserves it. And taking you where you belong… with the rest of the trash."

Newkirk wasn't exactly sure what that meant, but it wasn't good. They were just about to reach the doors leading out to the back of the building when a voice hit his ears. For Newkirk, it was like a cry from the angels themselves.

"Wait!" Schultz yelled from the end of the hall. "Stop… Stop right there!" His huffing and puffing made his words almost unintelligible. He was clearly exerting his large body to its extremes. "Stop." _Wheeze_. "Stop I say." _Huff. Wheeze_.

"The guard." One of the men cursed, stopping the stretcher.

"Do not stop!" Baumann cried. "We don't have to listen to him."

"But he is a Sergeant." The youngest German squeaked.

"He is nothing. Keep moving!"

"Nein! Nein! Stop!" Schultz shouted. "That is… an order."

Miraculously, Schultz caught up to them, thanks to a few of the men dragging their feet in fear. He raised his rifle and pointed it at them. One solider responded in kind by raising his own weapon. Baumann held out a handgun. Newkirk wished he could help but right now he wasn't even sure which directions the ceiling and the floor where. Schultz moved cautiously forward. "What are you doing?" He snapped.

"Just taking your buddy here out for a late night walk." The injured soldier lied with a smirk.

Schultz swallowed, his eyes falling to Newkirk. "What is wrong with him? He looks… drunk."

Baumann shrugged. "We were trying to do a nice thing, but he threw a tantrum, so we gave him a little something to calm him down. He is stubborn like that, no?"

Schultz hesitated. _Please don't fall for that Schultz._ Newkirk begged. They had often relied on Schultz's gullibility but he needed him to be smarter than that now.

"I… I do not believe you."

 _Thank you Schultzie!_

"You intend to harm him." Schultz continued.

"And what if we are!" Baumann sneered. "He is nothing but British scum- the enemy. You should be helping us." He gave the guard a slimy grin. "Come on big guy, why don't you give us a hand in ridding Germany of one more tiny flea."

Schultz straightened. "No! He is a prisoner under my care. I cannot let you take him." He moved forward and laid a hand on the stretcher, pulling Newkirk towards himself.

Two of the men grabbed the other end and pulled back. "Come on buddy." One of them said slyly. "You don't see anything here, do you?"

"Nein, I do see something! And I know what you are doing." Schultz lowered his gun so he could get a better grip on the stretcher. "I am a German officer and you will do as I…" He faded off when the tip of a gun was shoved in his face.

It was over. Newkirk knew Schultz couldn't help but run away now. It was only his natural instinct.

"Y-y-you cannot take him." Schultz's voice cracked and stuttered with fear but, surprisingly, he held his ground. "I-I am responsible for him. If you want him, y-you will have to go through m-me."

Baumann moved the gun closer. "That might be a trick, there's a lot there to go through, but I think we can manage it. We'll get rid of two fleas tonight instead of just one." Schultz's eyes clenched shut in fear but his grip never let up on the stretcher. He wasn't letting Newkirk go.

"Achtung!" A voice echoed down the hall in such a commanding tone that every soldier snapped to attention, including Schultz. "What is the meaning of this?" The voice was tipped with a German accent, but Newkirk would recognize that voice anywhere. He forced his groggy head to move towards the sound of Colonel Hogan's voice. Hogan waltzed down the hallway, dressed in full German General's uniform, complete with a riding crop and fake mustache.

LeBeau and Carter flanked his sides wearing similar disguises of lesser ranks. Schultz blanched at the sight of them. "Colonel Ho-"

"Achtung!" Hogan interrupted. Schultz snapped back to attention. "I am General Weiler. I have come here to visit an injured comrade and I find a standoff in the middle of the hospital. And between two German soldiers, no less." His gaze shifted discerningly between them. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Disgraceful, sir." Carter chimed in.

"An absolute dishonor to the German army." LeBeau added.

Hogan nodded sharply. "Well! Do any of you have anything to say for yourselves?"

Baumann cleared his throat. "Sir, we were just… just…" He searched desperately for an explanation.

"Just… just…" Hogan mocked. "Just what?" He moved closer and stood over Newkirk, worry crossing his face for a single second as he took in his condition. "What is wrong with this man?"

"Sir," one of the men said. "He is a prisoner from a nearby camp, he is the enemy."

"Is that so?" Hogan rubbed his fake mustache. "And what were you doing with him?"

"We were going to throw him out with the trash where he belongs!" Baumann snapped. LeBeau nearly broke character as anger caught hold of him. "We were doing the German Army a favor."

"A favor?!" Hogan roared. "A favor?" The soldiers fidgeted nervously, except the injured man, who was studying the three of them curiously. Hogan took notice and knew his time was almost up. "You were doing no such favor to anyone!" He continued. "We are human beings, not barbarians. You are the very example of what is wrong with this war." Hogan's real character was showing through his disguise.

"Wrong… sir?" Baumann sputtered. "But we were just-"

"Achtung! I was not finished." Hogan turned to Schultz. "But this man here, he stood strong; one man against five armed men. Fighting the odds. Good job, soldier."

A sincere smile crossed Schultz's face. "Danke, Col- I mean, General." They all knew how much the compliment meant to the guard; it was the first time Hogan had done anything but yell at him in over a week.

While Hogan kept them distracted, Carter and LeBeau moved to either side of Newkirk's stretcher. They rolled him out of harm's way and signaled for Schultz to follow. "Now." Hogan continued. "All of you will turn yourselves in to your commanding officers, or I will be reporting you for this disorderly and embarrassing conduct myself!"

"Yes sir!" They all cried, except the injured soldier. He had been seeing the three of them come and go for the past week; their disguises were enough to fool him but he was catching on. "Do I know you?" He finally asked.

"Do you want me to report you?" Hogan snapped, keeping him distracted. "Now!" He roared. "Back to your room! All of you, out! Out! Out!" They all scattered in different directions, terrified of Hogan's spot on impersonation of a German General.

Hogan dropped the act as soon as they were out of sight. "Is he okay?"

LeBeau leaned closer, worry clear on his face. "Newkirk, can you hear me? Say something!"

"Surbugen moofern sin." He mumbled, reaching up and patting his little French friend on the cheek.

"What's that mean?" Carter questioned with a gasp.

"I have no idea." LeBeau smiled. "But he responded, so that's good, no?"

"What are you three doing hereee?" Schultz whined.

"You mean you're not happy to see us?" Carter asked with a smirk.

"Of course I am, but why are you in those clothes?"

Hogan grinned. "Do you really want to know, Schultz?"

The guard hesitated. "I am not sure."

"You see, we had to intercept a message at the German Headquarters so naturally we had to impersonate-"

"Stop! Stop! I want to know nothing!"

"Good to have you here, Schultz." Hogan grinned. "Now, come on, let's get him somewhere safe." He moved to Newkirk's feet and together they pushed him down the hall, passing his room by.

"We're not taking him back to his room?" Carter questioned.

"It is not safe for him here." LeBeau snapped. "We all need to get out of here before those soldiers get smart and figure out who we are."

"But he needs a doctor." Schultz whined. "They gave him something."

"Is Doctor Kemmler on duty tonight?" Hogan asked.

"Yes, I think so."

"Then go get him Schultz; we'll find an empty room. There's got to be one around here somewhere." They wheeled the stretcher to an examination room far from Newkirk's assigned room. It was a tight fit as they all filed in, but at least they wouldn't likely be found there.

"Newkirk, ol' buddy." Carter leaned over him. "Can you hear me? Blink once for yes, twice for no."

"Garder, youarn idiom." Newkirk grumbled.

"Oh no!" Carter gasped. "What does that mean? Did he blink once or twice?"

LeBeau rolled his eyes. "Newkirk, would you like me to translate?" He nodded slowly. "'Carter, you're an idiot.'"

"Thangu Lebaun."

Hogan smiled as they bickered. He was too busy checking the drugged Englishman to join in. He lifted Newkirk's shirt and frowned when he saw blood seeping through the bandages. "Newkirk, you're bleeding." LeBeau whimpered and moved out of sight of the blood. "What happened? Did they do something to you?"

Newkirk made a weak fist and pushed it into Carter's side, mimicking what Baumann had done. Hogan understood and tensed.

"Those dirty rats!" LeBeau growled. "We should have done more to make them pay. Like punch them right in the nose!"

Schultz reappeared with the doctor at his side. "What are you doing in here?" Doctor Kemmler asked. "What happened? Why are you dressed like that?"

"Those rotten soldiers attacked Newkirk." LeBeau snapped. "They gave him something, and his side his bleeding again."

The doctor pushed aside any further questions and attended to his patient. The four men waited anxiously while Newkirk was examined.

He finished and nodded. "He is okay, it appears they gave him a mild sedative, and he just popped a stitch. I'll have him all fixed up in no time, and the drugs should wear off shortly with little side effect."

They let out a shared sigh of relief. "Doc, I think we need to take him out of here and soon." Hogan said sternly.

The doctor hesitated. "Yes, I suppose that would be best. I hate to admit it, but he would be better off far from this place. When I'm finished, I will discharge him."

"Thank you, Doc."

"But he still needs a lot of care. I will make a list."

"A list?"

"Yes, a list of the care he will still need to be provided." The doctor smiled. "Don't worry, it won't be much, he has plenty of friends to help him along the way."

While the doctor worked on Newkirk, Schultz moved to Hogan's side. "I am sorry, Colonel Hogan," He said weakly. "I left him unattended again and he was hurt… again."

Hogan nodded. "Yes you did, and yes he was."

Schultz hung his head. "I am a dummkopf."

"But do you know what else you did Schultz." Hogan continued. The German guard looked up with interest. "You did exactly as I asked and you kept Newkirk safe."

"But Colonel Hogan, if I hadn't left, those men would not have hurt him."

"I don't blame you for what those men did, I blame them. Schultz, you stood your ground against five men with a gun pointed at your face, something I've never seen you do before. And if you hadn't, we never would have found him in time and Newkirk would be… well he'd probably be dead." Hogan patted him on the shoulder. "You did good Schultz."

The big German guard grinned. "Thank you Hogan."

The Colonel shifted as a thought occurred to him. "So where were you when the men came for Newkirk?"

"I went to find more flowers. The others were dying, and it was so sad."

Hogan rolled his eyes and smiled. "Again with the flowers. Schultz you really are just a big softie inside and out."

* * *

Newkirk stretched his legs out and leaned back against the wall of Barrack's Two. It had been almost two weeks since his release from the hospital, and he hated to admit it, but he was happy to be back at Stalag 13. _Better here than sitting in the ruddy hospital._ He thought. The guys had babied him for the first few days back, barely even letting him eat on his own, but it had quickly worn off. Once he started walking on his own, they let him be, still jumping in when he struggled.

A cane leaned against his leg. He had to use it for several more weeks to steady himself on his right side, making helping out on missions a little difficult. But even if it was just sewing together disguises, he was doing something and feeling useful again.

Klink was happy that he was no longer transporting prisoners to the hospital and back nearly every day. Schultz was happy to be back at his old job. And Hogan was happy to have his team back together again. Everyone was happy- well, as happy as a POW camp in the middle of Germany could be.

"Nice to see things back to normal." Hogan said as he approached the resting Englishman. "How are you feeling?"

"Right as rain, Colonel; I'll be back to my old self in no time."

"Boy, that's a shame." Carter said, appearing out of nowhere.

"Who asked you?" Newkirk snapped.

"Now don't aggravate the old man." LeBeau chuckled and grabbed Newkirk's cane. "Or he'll beat you with his cane." Newkirk grabbed it back and whacked the Frenchman across the legs. "OW!"

"Wasn't a bloody bad idea." Newkirk smirked.

"Hey, that's not half bad." Kinch sat down next to him. "You could use that thing as a weapon on our next mission."

"I just might do that."

LeBeau chuckled. "I still think it makes you look like an old man."

"Better an old man than a Frenchman."

"Hey!"

Carter chuckled. "That was a good one."

"Be quiet, Carter!"

"Yes, it's good to have things back to normal." Hogan said with a laugh.

Newkirk spotted Schultz across the compound. He let out a loud whistle, catching the guard's attention. "You fellas want to see something?" He asked with a mischievous smirk.

Schultz waddled up and let out a heavy sigh. "What do you want?"

Newkirk smiled up at him. He'd been milking Schultz's guilt for all it was worth over the past few weeks. "I just wanted to say hi, Schultzie." He said with an air of innocence.

"Are you sure that is all?"

"Of course that's all. Hello, Schultz."

The guard rolled his eyes. "Hello, Newkirk."

He turned to leave but stopped short when Newkirk spoke again. "I'm also a little hungry." He added, suppressing a smile. "I could really use something sweet."

Schultz turned back slowly. "Sweet?"

Newkirk nodded. "Like maybe… oh I don't know, some chocolate."

The German sighed again and sat his rifle against his leg before he pulled a chocolate bar out of his overcoat. "But… it is my last one." He whined.

Newkirk held a hand to his side and let out a long groan of pain, even though he felt nothing more than a dull ache. "Oh Schultzie, it hurts bad it does…" He groaned. Schultz handed over the candy, wincing when it left his hand. Newkirk unwrapped it and took a bite, suddenly cured of his discomfort. "Thanks mate."

"You are welcome Newkirk." Schultz gave a small smile. "Is there anything else I can do for you?" He asked cautiously.

"Not now, but I'll let you know if I think of anything."

"Wunderbar." He said heavily. He bent down and picked up his rifle. Together, Newkirk, LeBeau, Carter, Hogan, and Kinch, all ducked in mock fear, taking cover in case in stray shots went off. Schultz rolled his eyes. "Oh that is very funny, you are all jolly jokers."

Hogan straightened his jacket. "Just playing it safe."

Schultz fixed him with his best glare, but it quickly folded, and a smile took its place. He turned and chuckled as he walked away. Newkirk grinned as he watched the soft-hearted German go. "You know, Colonel, he's not so bad… for a Kraut." Schultz may have been on the side of the enemy, but who ever said that an enemy couldn't also be a friend?

The End


End file.
